Can fireworks bring world peace?

Ha. Probably not. But they do have a pacifying effect you can't deny--if you really, really pay attention.

Ever notice on the Fourth that no matter where people have gathered in an attempt to blow things apart (my mailbox) or have gathered to observe fireworks (every damn driveway in every damn Midwestern town) or congregate to purchase fireworks (every damn grocery store parking lot in my fair city), it's a united crowd? A crowd with a single purpose. A slack-jawed crowd with flashes of exploding lights twinkling in their eyes. These people have no outwardly noticeable conflicts. Why? Beer, of course. Well, that and because they love explosions. They live for destruction. It's in their blood. It fuels them. Beer and demolition. The Fourth is the one day of the year your crazy uncle or nitwit third cousin twice removed or your neice's chain-smoking, peach-fuzzed boyfriend are the most popular people in the family because they've blown half of their (or their parents') income for the year on gun powder. Beautiful.

Least you think I'm above explosion-loving, I'll come clean by admitting to willingly and willfully attending our city's annual fireworks display last night with my family at a city lake. Ever seen fireworks reflecting off water? Nothing like it. And as we sat in lawn chairs and on blankets along with thousands of others watching the great Lincoln Symphony Orchestra perform both before and while the sky was being lit up, I couldn't help but notice the true disparity of people gathered. Whites, blacks, native Americans, Asians, Hispanics, etc. Old. Young. Handicapped. Wealthy. Poor. English-speaking and not. The music and fireworks were equally fantastic, but seeing the diversity of people in one place outside under the stars without malice or aggitation or paranoia or distrust was by far the best part of the night, and really the whole point of the Fourth in the first place, right?

Later, we did our part for the explosion effort by blowing stuff up in our own driveway, while the drunken neighbors and friends did more than their part--and, in fact, got an early start on next year by exploding stuff well into July 5.

But it always seems like a few idiots have to go and spoil things involving fire and explosions and destruction for the rest of us. This morning I read that a few over-eager pyros in one of my old neighborhoods went above and beyond the call of duty by burning a house to the ground. Nice. I love this quote from the local newspaper from a guy living in the area: "It was incredible to see people from all over our neighborhood come and watch this as it happened. They treated it like a concert.....it was a very festive atmosphere. Somone's life was taking a tragic turn, and just about every single person on the block came out to watch the 'spectacle.' It was really sickening. People continued to shoot off fireworks 50 feet from the burning home. It was another disturbing remind of just how pathetic this neighborhood is."

Thanks for bumming out my fireworks trip.